Reichenbach Hell - Superwholock
by theangelonsamsshoulder
Summary: The Doctor requires the Winchesters help in London when it seems that Sherlock has been possessed, but will they be able to find him in time before he does something that could threaten the lives of millions? (I'm terrible at summaries, sorry. I could only fit in two categories, but there should be Doctor Who, Superatural and Sherlock.)


**_A/N: Okay, thanks for taking the time to read this! ^-^ It's my first Superwholock fic, so I apologise if it's terrible. Anyway, yeah, I don't own anything to do with Doctor Who, Sherlock or Supernatural (but if I did that would be so cool). Uh, yeah, don't read if you haven't seen The Reichenbach Fall (Sherlock) cause this kinda ruins it a bit. Well, enjoy!_**

**_CHAPTER ONE_**

**_DEAN_**

_I sit in the edge of a bench in a small play park. There's a set of swings, a slide, a roundabout and a strange man by a gate. _

_ "Hello?" I call. "Hey, dude! Who are you?" He walks over to me. _

_ "Dean Winchester?" He's British. _

_ "Yeah? Please don't tell me you're another angel here to screw about with my head."_

_ "Oh, no, no, no!" He says, shaking his head. "No, I'm the Doctor!"_

_ I pause. "Doctor who?" He laughs._

_ "Oh, I love it when people say that! No, it's just 'the Doctor'—or 'Doctor', if you prefer."_

_ "Doc's good for me." I say. I study him for a moment. He wears navy blue pants, black, fancy shoes, suspenders, a dress shirt, a bow tie and a brown tweed jacket. Not the typical dress code for people, but maybe British people are different. "Anyway, what do you want? Am I dreaming or something?"_

_ "Yes, Dean, you're dreaming. I needed to speak to you in some way, but just popping in might not have been the best idea. You see, my mode of transport is a bit . . . Different."_

_ I interrupt him. "Can't be that different from what I've seen and fought, Doc."_

_ "You have no idea, Dean," he grins. "Yes, right, I need your help with something. In London."_

_ "And that would be?"_

_ "A good friend of mine, Sherlock Holmes, is missing, and has been for quite a while. There have been signs of demonic activity and, well, you're the expert here, so I expect you get the just of things."_

_ "Hold on. You think this Sherlock guy has been kidnapped by demons? Why?"_

_ "Sherlock Holmes is a very intelligent man, who knows and can find out a lot of things others would love to get their hands on. My guess is that they want him to find something for them. You see, they must have possessed him. How else could he have fallen off the top of a building, land on his head and survive?" _

_ I stand up. "So, there's been lightning storms?" He nods. "Cattle mutilations? Crop failure?" Again, he nods. "Any idea _which _demon? Is it one of the big boys or just another one of hell's little b-es?" The Doctor shrugs._

_ "I said it before, Dean. _You're _the expert here."_

_ "Right. When do Sammy and I need to get to Britain?"_

_ "Well . . . Now, preferably. Probably, right now. It would have helped if you were here three and a half minutes ago. But you know time—all wibbly wobbly. Anyway, I have to dash. Clara's waiting on me and I'm using up a lot of the TARDIS' energy to do this."_

_ "Wait, Doc! How are we even supposed to get there?" I decide not to mention my fear of planes._

_ "Don't worry," he winks. "I'll come and get you."_

_ "But I thought you said you weren't going to pop in!"_

_ "Change of plan. Pack your stuff, Dean. Now."_

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," I hear Sam's voice before I see him. I open my eyes and look at the clock. Noon. I still feel groggy, as if I had had no sleep the previous night.

"Hey, Sammy, what's for lunch?" I sit up on my bed in the motel. It's funny, motel beds are the only kind of beds I can remember. They feel sort of like home to me, and probably to Sam as well.

"Typical, Dean," he laughs. "You've just woken up and your mind's on food."

"What can I say, Sammy?" I pat my stomach. "I do love my food."

After getting ready and packing our stuff, we head to the diner we passed on our way to the motel. In the Impala, I explain to Sam my weird vision-like dream, but he can't exactly process it.

"So, this Doctor guy needs _our_ help with some job in _London_?" I nod. "And why would he come to you in a dream? Why not me? I'm obviously the more mature one!"

"Hey!" I whack his arm.

"Sorry. Anyway, who _is_ this Doctor guy? And who's Sherlock Holmes?" Sam scratches his head.

"I dunno, Sammy, you're the researcher, aren't you?" He shrugs. "Let's shut up about this just now. I'm starving."

We stop at the diner—which just so happens to be called 'Sam's'—and get out of the car. I rub my hands together as we walk through the door, inhaling the smell of bacon, pancakes and a bunch of other delicious food.

"Oh, God, what am I gonna get?"

"Wow, Dean, you're acting like a kid in a candy store? You alright?"

"I feel like I haven't eaten in months! I don't know why!" I stop. "I swear, if I'm pregnant-" Sam bursts out laughing.

_ "Pregnant?" _It's the first time I've seen him laugh so much in a long time, so I smile. "Dude, I know you didn't really pay attention in school, but seriously? Pregnant?" He's still laughing as we sit down at a table by the window.

"Hey, boys, what can I get you?" A girl with dark brown hair and green eyes stands at the end of the table with a notepad and pen. Her name tag reads 'Sam'.

"Grilled cheese sandwich and a soda, thanks." Sammy says.

"Uh, I'll have the bacon cheeseburger and water." I say, my head in the menu I just picked up.

"Nice name," Sammy remarks. Other Sam smiles.

"Thanks, what's yours?"

"Sam." Other Sam laughs.

"I guess that's why it's such a great name, huh?" She winks and walks away.

"Dude, she likes you." I hit his arm.

"Shut up."

"I'm serious, dude."

Ten minutes later, Other Sam comes back with our food.

"Thanks!" I smile and take a bite of my burger. "Oh my God, Sammy, this is amazing!" I say, my mouth full of burger.

Sam laughs. "Dude, close your mouth!"

I ignore him and take another bite. "How's yours?"

"Don't think it's as good as your burger! You sound like you wanna make out with it."

"You don't think I will?" I grin. I can't actually remember the last time we sat down and just had a good laugh. It felt right, like how it should be with brothers. Nothing too serious, nothing to do with hunting. Just being brothers.

Later that evening, we sit in the Impala at the side of the road, drinks in hand, waiting on the Doctor. I take a huge gulp of beer and slouch back.

"When d'you think this guy's gonna show?" Sam asks.

"No idea . . ."

Suddenly, the quiet is disturbed by a strange noise. It sounded like some machinery wheezing and groaning and then it came to a complete stop.

"Dude, look!" Sam was pointing to something outside, which looked to be a blue police box. "is that him?" I shrug and get out of the car.

"Hey, Doc!" I yell. The door of the mysterious blue box opens and the Doctor walks out, waving a cloud of smoke away.

"Dean!" He smiles and hugs me. "Oh, it's so good to see you in person."

"Um, Doc, this is my brother-"

"Sam!" He lets go of me and goes to hug Sam. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sam! I'm the Doctor, but you can call me Doctor, or Doc—as your brother prefers." The Doctor turns back towards the box and yells. "Clara! Come and meet the Winchesters!" A girl stumbles out of the box, coughing and waving away smoke, just as the Doctor did.

"Wow . . ." I mutter. She was pretty. _Really_ pretty. "Uh, I'm Dean. Dean Winchester." I extend my hand.

"Clara Oswin Oswald." She shakes my hand. "Funny name, I know. Just call me Clara." She looks over to Sam.

"I'm Sam, Dean's little brother." Clara looks at the two of us.

"It would seem to me that _you_ were the older sibling, Sam. That's if we're judging by height. But . . ." She looks at me a little closer. "Dean, you've got a lot more to tell in your eyes."

"I do?"

"Yup!"

"Anyway," the Doctor says. "We should probably be heading off." He makes his way towards the blue box.

"Hold on a minute. You expect all of us to fit in a _box_?" The Doctor and Clara exchange a look and laugh.

"Oh, it's funny this old machine," the Doctor says. "Take a look!" I look at Sam, he seems worried, but I guess that can only be considered normal for the situation.

I walk towards the blue box, hesitating with every step. Finally, I reach the door, with a chuckling Doctor and Clara behind me. I glare at them and gesture for Sam to come with me. This Doctor guy could be tricking us, for all we know.

Sam stands beside me and we push open the blue, wooden doors. A cloud of smoke emerges from the box, causing us to choke and wheeze.

"Dude!" I splutter. The Doctor smirks.

"Bit of common sense needed there, Dean! You saw us come out and you thought the smoke would have randomly disappeared by now? It's only been five minutes!" I pull a face and mimic the Doctor's words. Sam laughs.

"Anyway," Clara says. "Go on! Look inside the TARDIS!"

"What's the TA-" Before I can finish my sentence, Clara shoves me from behind and I stumble into the box. By the sound of Sam's 'distress yell' (it's more of a scream), Clara probably pushed him in as well. I stand up.

"B- . . ." I finally process where I am - and it's nothing like outside. I walk backwards, towards the door. Sam's face must be a mirror image of mine. His eyes are wide, his jaw hangs open and, in his eyes, I can see amazement and confusion.

He begins to say something. "Holy . . ."

"Fudge . . ." I finish.


End file.
